abuse

There's a serious side to today, also... because I spent a good amount of time this morning writing another letter to my mom.

Well there's a few things involved here...

First of all, I consented to her calling once a month. Just her, though, and only on Wednesday nights. Not sure how that will go yet n.n but I'm more and more starting to think that it is actually detrimental for me to keep hiding from the fact I have parents.

Not necessarily because I want to bring them back into my life. :/ I am definitely not ready to face my father. That is not going to happen for a long, long time if I can help it.

But ...at least with my mom, I feel like there is something that can be done, here. I don't think either of my parents really understand why I felt the need to leave and cut them out of my life. Because they don't really understand, or accept my reasons, they feel sorrow and confusion as to my decision, and worry about me constantly.

I ended up writing a long email to my mom today.

While doing so I was trying to explain why I didn't want contact with my... other parent. While I was writing it, I recounted some of the symptoms I have that are signs of emotional trauma in the past:

- chronic stress pains, trouble sleeping
- nightmares of being intimidated / threatened by him
- fear of loud, sudden noises (similar to PTSD in war veterans, I explained)
- debilitating anxiety when faced with others' expectations, even if imagined
- inappropriate guilt and worthlessness (further exacerbated by my depression)

I thought to myself, writing all this out, "you know what... if I didn't know me and I read that, I'd think the person who wrote it was abused."

There are sometimes images that can evoke strong reactions in me, no matter how long I go without seeing or remembering them.

I had a moment like that a couple days ago that I wanted to write about, because it actually stunned me for several minutes and stuck with me until I went to bed that day.

[TMI - pretty squicky :/ involves a great deal of talk about vomiting, and some mention of non-consensual sexual fantasies.]

Trying to write out my feelings after moving to Montreal is, again, something I've had a hard time putting in words.

My impressions of the city itself are easy enough. I like it so far... or at least the small part of downtown I live in, 'cause I've not had the opportunity to go very far yet. Hard to do really, what with all the errands we still have left, and a lack of money.

The conveniences here are better than I had in Quebec City. We have a grocery store just a couple blocks away. Few blocks in the opposite direction is a mall and the closest subway station. Within walking distance, there's plenty of other malls and restaurants. Same with my college of choice (it's only one subway stop away, so it's more worth walking it unless the weather truly blows.)

(Named thus because I was writing this while listening to Diamanda's Guilty Guilty Guilty.)

I didn't like the Emberdays session this time. I have to confess it was really hard for me to run. I just don't have much confidence in it, I guess? But I did get it done.

I get frustrated with my anxiety problems though. Seriously, with games, I get all these great ideas that look awesome when I think them up and write them out, but I totally *freak out* when I run stuff. Every time I have to go through a difficult panic attack before or during running a game, or have to force myself into running despite apprehension or weariness, I end up thinking to myself: why am I even doing this?

The answer is simple: because I love creating... I love thinking up stories and building worlds and playing NPCs and bringing people into the worlds I imagine.

But why it has to be such a drain... well that's a different thing altogether.

It's a mystery how people behave
How they long for a life as a slave

Jon went and pulled out my Cardigans albums and I've been listening to them lately. It interests me how that band started out being known for these rather sugary-pop songs (at least in the U.S., where I first heard them) and ended up producing such darkly beautiful love songs. Like "Paralyzed" on Gran Turismo, "Please Sister" on Long Gone Before Daylight (which Kraken says is his favorite song. I don't blame him!) and "And Then You Kissed Me" parts I and II (the first on Long Gone, the second on Super Extra Gravity, which I just finished listening to.)

Yesterday made me rather grumpy.

It's not even anything in particular. Just things that are slowly starting to wear at me emotionally.

Various conversations.
RP issues.
Stuff.

I can't say much detail here... there's personal things involved. In at least one case it's someone fairly close to me.

I had this thought late last night about looking into some of my old writings. As I've probably said before on one incarnation of my site or another, I've saved my writing from 4th grade (9-10 years old, I think?) onward. Most of it before I started using the web is written on journals rather than typed out or put online.

I look back at them now and then, I guess partly to remind myself how far I've come as a writer, and a person. Holding those old journals in my hand is like looking at a relic. I mean that was 19 years ago, when I wrote the first one. Nearly an entire decade has passed.

This time, though, I was looking for something in particular. I was thinking about...

[TMI warning: Themes of abuse, graphic descriptions of sexually demeaning fantasies, etc. The really graphic parts are labeled.]

It's raining outside...
storming actually.

I started my period. I haven't even packed yet. =_=

I ended up caught in some sort of depressive phase before I went to bed because sis was talking to me about... a certain member of my family, and I just...

...